


The Hex pt. 8

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Series: The Hex [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Implied M/M, M/M, Sibling Incest, Soulmates, Temporarily Female Sam, Wincest - Freeform, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam explains what happened with the Crowley deal, they talk and stuff, motel sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hex pt. 8

**Author's Note:**

> I changed a little detail back in part 7 in terms of location, so in case you're wondering, Dean never went back to the bunker, they're still at the motel. you can go back and read the last few paragraphs if you'd like. Or not, totally up to you. :)
> 
> On another note, I finally see an end in sight, people. It will be good. Very good >)

"So what happened, Sam?" Dean asked the next morning over breakfast. He had waited until Sam seemed ready to bring it up.

Still, Sam sighed and said plainly; "Nothing."

" _Nothing_ , Sam?" Dean repeated incredulously. "You expect me to believe that? Where did you go?"

"A walk," Sam's injured eyes looked up at him and he shrugged simply.

"A walk."

"Yes, Dean. After I left I didn't even go see Crowley. I just needed... space. I had every intention of making that deal. But I started to think about what you said and I... I was just desperate. And confused. Didn't know what I was doing."

Dean sighed and leaned against the sink behind him. "I was worried. I mean I was _really_ worried. You could have called."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"When you say you were confused... What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Sam shifted in his seat then got up and put his cup in the sink. Dean waited for an answer. They still hadn't talked about what happened between them the other night. It remained unsettled ground that neither of them were really ready to address. But Dean knew it was probably what was on Sam's mind still.

"Just..." Sam started. "With what happened the other night..."

Dean nodded, almost knowingly. "I knew it was going to be about that."

"Well, come on, Dean. You can't tell me you weren't thinking it, too. It wasn't normal..."

Dean didn't know what to say. He knew it wasn't right, but Sam had seemed like he wanted it—maybe even needed it—at the time and Dean certainly felt the same way, and it all happened so fast neither of them had time to question morality. But the truth was Dean wouldn't go back and change it if he had the choice. It seemed to Dean that Sam was saying just the opposite.

"But Dean..." Sam said, and Dean looked up. "I wanted it... I wanted it so bad..."

Sam's eyes were drawn up, his voice shaking a little.

" _That's_ what confused me."

Dean's words wouldn't come. He understood then what Sam meant, so he gave a small nod to show him that he was right there with him, and he was willing to help Sam through this. Hell, he was pretty much going through the same thing because he wasn't sure everybody should want to fuck their own brother so yeah, _he_ was confused too.

Sam walked away and into the bathroom without another word and Dean let out a breath, finally picking up his coffee and taking a long, thoughtful sip.

 

xxx

 

Dean tried Farrah's cell a couple of times throughout the day, but he got her voicemail every time. Sam had been on his computer all day, sitting by the little table by the door, trying to see what he could gather up about any other witches that might be as powerful as Kaleb that they could get in contact with. Obviously a lot of them were fakes or just herbologists who definitely wouldn't have what they were looking for. Still, Sam gave the computer every minute of his attention. Even when it was well past midnight and Dean told him to get some sleep.

"Yeah, in a minute..." he replied, distracted, thin shoulders hunched over the desk.

"Sam..." Dean started, because he knew this couldn't be healthy. Sam needed to get some sleep. Knowing him, he'd stay up all night on that thing.

Sam relaxed in the chair and looked over finally, giving Dean a small smile.

"I'm coming, Dean," he whined a little, and immediately Dean smirked and walked toward his bed but then thought about what Sam said. _I'm coming_ sounded kind of like he was planning on sleeping with him in his bed again... but he couldn't be sure. There were two there, but one of them was completely untouched. Dean shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed closest to the back window, changing out of his pants and shirts so that he was in just a plain t-shirt and his boxers.

He turned the light out and settled on his back, closing his eyes. A few minutes later he heard Sam opening and shutting the drawers. Tonight there was no reason to sleep together.

Still, once his mind went there it couldn't help but remember Sam's warmth, the _heat_ emanating from him, their mouths on each other, exploring. How easily he had slid right into his wetness, how unbelievably tight he was, how pretty he had looked right under him, naked and glowing like the sun. The hot, burning sun. That was what Sam was. His sun.

He closed his eyes tight to shut his mind up, but then felt the bed dip down. He opened his eyes to watch Sam crawl on the bed again, this time taking in the fact that Sam wore nothing but a form-fitting t-shirt and some black panties.

Dean swallowed. There was no reason for this, this time. That meant that Sam just wanted to be here, in _his_ bed, close to him. It had to.

Sam lay on his back and Dean's eyes travelled up Sam's bare legs, long and curvy and smooth. He cursed himself for wanting to touch them again, run his fingers up those thighs.

Sam's hands rested on his own flat stomach, and he watched the ceiling for a while. Dean noticed Sam's fingers starting to sway, lightly scratch at where they sat, t-shirt riding up and exposing the skin just at his abdomen and the top band of the underwear. Dean felt a heat gathering at his groin, tingling up his legs and down his chest. When Sam's fingers circled his belly button, Dean felt a burning flush take to his skin, even in his face, his cheeks. His breaths were coming out shaky.

Sam turned to him, and from the low moonlight spilling in from the window he saw his face, balmy and blue, pretty lashes flickering darkly.

"Dean..." he said, and at first Dean forgot that was even his name. "Are you attracted to me... Like this?"

Dean couldn't speak. Sam was running girlish fingers up his small hips, trailing in the dip of his stomach, pushing his shirt up just to where his breasts began to swell, and back down again. Dean licked his lips.

"It's okay, you can tell me."

Dean nodded then, his mouth gone completely dry. He was certain if Sam looked down he would be able to tell _just_ how attracted to him he was. It was a little ridiculous.

Sam sighed, hands traveling lower, playing with the skin at his stomach again. "It's just weird, you know? Feeling like this... feeling my body..." And then his hand went right over his panties, cupping himself, fingers dragging along the bone. "It feels... _bare_."

Dean was almost trembling now. And he was certain Sam heard that loud gulping noise his dry throat had made. Sam had to be doing it on purpose. But it didn't seem like his intentions were questionable or anything, it just seemed like he was being completely honest with Dean and opening up to him.

Still, Dean couldn't even respond, couldn't say anything at all.

One of Sam's hands moved up to cup one of his breasts over the t-shirt, and Dean actually attempted to stifle the completely involuntary moan his throat made. He couldn't touch him, because he wasn't even sure that was what Sam wanted. But his whole body was desperate for it, desperate to be all over him again. That much was clear, judging by the front of his boxers. Sam glanced down and Dean didn't even try to cover up his arousal. The damage was done. Sam was massaging himself now, and all Dean heard was the constant swish of the fabric, and he imagined it was heating up. With one hand, Sam reached over and took Dean's hand. Dean's heart stopped at the contact, his breath momentarily hitching in his throat. Sam pulled his hand over and placed it gently between his legs. The fabric was hot and damp under his fingers. Dean forced his mind to obey him and just goddamn breathe already. He felt the fabric bunching under his palm as he gently caressed, and Sam held on to his wrist and let out the faintest little mewl Dean had ever heard.

"Sammy..." Dean started weakly. "You sure this is what you want?"

Sam nodded quickly, shifting on the mattress, closer in, sliding his hand up Dean's arm. "I want you, Dean."

And hell if that wasn't the best thing Dean had ever heard in his life. Morality be damned. Sam pulled Dean's arm in closer and Dean hovered over him, kneading in between his legs and feeling the skin underneath swelling. Sam opened his mouth and strained up to meet Dean's, and Dean pressed in, their tongues immediately colliding. Dean sucked at his lip, wet and sweet, and Sam moaned. Dean was beginning to be addicted to the taste of his saliva, it was somehow uniquely Sam and he imagined it would taste the same even if he was still a man. Dean grunted when Sam nipped at his bottom lip, feeling small hands traveling up underneath his t-shirt. Sam pulled it off, over his back and Dean ducked out of it. Sam tossed it aside, then pushed back up to meet Dean's mouth again. Dean's hands slid up Sam's hips, then slipped the black underwear off. Sam spread his legs a little, kicking out of them, and pulled Dean back down over him. Dean trailed his fingers over the hot, wet skin. Dean swallowed down the moan it elicited from Sam, feeling Sam's fingers digging into his back. Dean slipped a finger easily past the ring of muscle, and Sam's hips lifted a little off the bed, thrusting up into Dean. Dean just held his finger inside and flicked his thumb gently in place, smiling when it made Sam shudder and jerk. He pulled his wet finger out despite Sam's hips begging him for more, and Sam took the opportunity to push Dean down and roll on top of him, legs spread and straddling his hips. He leaned down, devouring Dean's mouth and Dean held on to his waist, the t-shirt riding up under his hands. Sam licked in his mouth and sucked on his tongue and Dean moaned loudly at the feel of him grinding down on his cock. Dean pulled the t-shirt off of Sam and tossed it aside, cupping his breasts in a deep, lustful admiration and expanding his palms around their fullness. He noticed that Sam had replaced the bandage with a smaller one, just a square of gauze held in place by some transparent medical tape. Sam rut into him, fingers digging hard into his shoulders, and Dean grit his teeth. Sam moaned and grasped at Dean's hands over his own breasts, holding them there.

Dean could have come just like that, right in his soaked boxers, and been satisfied. But Sam desperately pulled them down and his cock sprang free, thick and aching red at the tip. Sam pushed up on his knees and barely even thought twice before gripping it tight and lining it up to his hole. Dean held Sam's thighs tight and bit his lip hard as he watched Sam wiggling his hips above him and felt the drenched, delicate skin opening. He moaned low in his throat as Sam sank down on him, feeling the impossible tightness squeezing him and taking him in deeper and deeper. Once he was in all the way, Sam groaned and dropped down over him, adjusting to the stretch. Dean held him by his thin waist, close to his body. Their sweat slicked their stomachs, making them slide easy against each other. Dean felt his cock pulse a little when Sam started to thrust his hips slowly, pulling up then pushing back down. The friction was driving Dean crazy. He held on to Sam's ass, rocking his hips up and bending his knees to support Sam a little.

Sam panted above him as they picked up the pace, jaw slack and damp hairs clinging to his forehead, eyes focused on Dean's. His hips began to slam down hard and desperate and sporadic, nails digging into Dean's chest. Dean pulled him down and kissed him hard, never wanting this to end. This feeling of ...unity.

He had had plenty of sex in his lifetime, with plenty of nameless women, but never had it feel like this. Never had his heart felt like it was about to jump right out of its cage, never had he actually felt like his body was being _shared_ with another person before. Like it didn't belong only to him anymore. Sam always owned a part of him, and a part of him had always felt like Sam was _his._ It was always Sam: _his_ little brother. Bonnie to _his_ Clyde. But never had he felt so complete in his _soul._ He didn't care how it sounded, he was on a high and he never wanted to come down.

He felt Sam tighten around him, his mouth letting out a litany of moans and _fucks_ , so much that by the time Dean held him and pumped faster Sam couldn't even speak anymore, just shuddered and came, gasping into his chest, holding on to him for dear life and riding out the waves of pleasure that rushed over him.

Dean pulled out of the impossible tightness just as he was on the edge of exploding and jacked himself quick with one hand, the other one still cupping Sam's ass tightly. Sam's hot mouth sucked bruises into Dean's neck, teeth nicking flesh, and Dean came with a gasp, pumping his cock hard and erupting over his hand and Sam's lower back. He rose a little off the bed and Sam rose with him since they were still glued together. As Dean's cock spasmed in his palm, he imagined he was still inside Sam and that made the final tremors that much more enjoyable.

Sam kissed a wet trail up his jaw until lips met lips again and Dean panted into them, frantically trying to catch his breath. Sam swallowed and breathed heavy through his nose as he sucked Dean's bottom lip and then took it between his teeth.

"Fuck," Dean uttered when he released it. Dean blinked and looked up into Sam's eyes and Sam just smiled, lids heavy, completely sated. Dean reached up and pushed the sticky hair from Sam's eyes and cupped his face gently. The moonlight was making him glow.

"You're so beautiful, Sam. So beautiful..." he murmured, looking up at him with intoxicated wonder.

Sam nudged his cheek against it, then fell back down, resting in the crook of Dean's neck.

Dean caressed Sam's loose limbs; up and down his smooth thighs, then up over the dip of his spine to his shoulders and arms, and Sam just huffed softly, letting himself gradually come down in Dean's arms.

Sam hummed lazily after a few moments, sleep already threatening to take him. Dean rolled Sam gently on his back, then pulled the cover over his naked body and Sam just watched him dazedly.

The musky, earthy scent of sex still hung heavy in the air above them, and they lay in it and fell asleep in it, the sheets tangled around them like an endless river of white.

 

xxx

 

Sam rose slowly out of sleep the next morning, blinking the sun from his heavy lids, dust particles dancing around the cracks of the curtains.

Dean's arm lay over him heavily, their legs twined together and mixed up in the sheets.

Sam barely even felt like his brother anymore, because he was a girl... Hell, he barely even felt like his _sister_... He felt like something else entirely. His... lover. Or something.

But it was weird—he didn't even really mind all that much. He never felt more comforted than he did now, like this, with Dean's arm draped over his shoulders, listening to his slow, soft breathing... feeling his warmth.

It felt _right._

Kind of like it used to, a long, long time ago. He could barely remember it, but when they were kids or something, Dean's warmth, his close presence, the feel of his body against his... it always made Sam feel like he was comforted and protected. Like no bad would ever come to him. He could even hear Dean's voice, soft like a lull. _As long as I'm around, nothing bad will ever happen to you. I promise._

Dean stirred and stretched out his arms, coming out of sleep now, too. Sam curled against him and Dean's arm came around his back and stroked lightly over his bare skin.

Dean started humming a tune Sam recognized. Frankie Valli.

Then he started to actually sing it, a bit off-key and with too much of a morning rasp, but Sam couldn't help but smirk.

" _Lonely... Without you, baby. Girl, I need you_ —" (Sam snorted and shoved him a little, and Dean sang the rest through a contained fit of laughter) "I can't go onnnnnnnnn." He went all high at the end and it made Sam roll his eyes amusedly in his arms.

Dean's phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the bed. He reached over and looked at the number but made a face like he didn't recognize it.

"Hello?" he said into it after he picked up. Sam propped himself up on his elbow.

Dean sat up, the covers falling in his lap. His eyes went wide. Sam reached for his shirt that was at the foot of the bed, tangled up in the covers, and slipped it on over his head, watching Dean. For a long time Dean seemed to just listen. But gradually his fingers tightened around the phone and began to shake.

"Let her go, Marco."

Sam's brows drew up in startled confusion, watching and listening to Dean intently. A few more minutes and Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it blankly.

"What is it?" Sam asked, anxiety making his stomach turn.

"Kaleb's got Farrah. He's hurting her. It's all my fault, I told her to go, to try to get the book..." he finally looked at Sam, hurt and in disbelief.

"What? Why'd you do that?"

"You were gonna make that deal with Crowley, I didn't know what else to do. She said she could do it."

"Dean..."

"We have to go help her."

Sam nodded after a few moments. "Let's go."


End file.
